The Vanquisher
by Reinbeauchaser
Summary: Leonardo, deserted by his family, must face an enemy alone. Will our hero in blue see another sunrise, or will his adversary be victorious? Read and find out. A one shot!


**_DISCLAIMER_** _- A one-shot. That's all I'm gonna say - other than, I don't own the TMNT's or any place or thing associated with them. _

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**The Vanquisher! **

With fifty already dead or dying, Leonardo knew he would win. Just one more remained to challenge him. He glared at his opponent, ignoring the carcasses littering the ground around him. Some still writhed in agony, yet he paid them no mind, for Leonardo knew no compassion; not with an enemy so ruthless, so determined, and with how great a number had challenged him. It was his destiny to defeat them; right down to the very last one. He would show them no mercy whatsoever.

Sadly, just before the slaughter, his brothers had deserted him.

_Cowards_! he had declared before setting to work.

Surprisingly, even his own father had left him to his fate, hiding away with the others, and though it surprised Leonardo, he would not label him a coward as he had his siblings. Even then, he didn't really blame any of them, for he was the only one who could win, the only one of five in his family trained to defeat their foe. Yes, he was the _Vanquisher_ and he would make certain that his brothers and his father could rest easy once more.

Now, with only one enemy left to fight, Leonardo stood poised. He had trained for this moment, every fiber of his being ready to prove his worth as a ninja master. His weapon firm within his grip, he watched his soon-to-be doomed prey as it languished nearby, obviously waiting for the right moment to strike.

The enemy did not heed its fallen comrades' fate and seek escape. Nay, it seemed to mock their very death, it's annoying taunts filling the room with an irritating cry, hoping to drive its opponent to the brink of insanity! It had done as much to his enemy's brethren, who had fled just moments earlier with tails between their legs.

Then, it made its move, but instead of coming straight for Leonardo, it swung around the room to find an opening.

Leonardo snapped his weapon at the ready. Emboldened by his enemy's war cry, he crouched and waited, watching his foe's trajectory with steely resolve. It behaved as if unaware of the threat before it, but Leo knew better. His enemy was crafty, just waiting for the perfect opportunity.

Suddenly, just as Leo expected, when he feigned an opening it suddenly rushed him, determined and resolute.

Coming in low, it angled to Leo's right, then to the left, then right again, only to unexpectedly swing up and then down. It did a spiral and a flip in quick succession (impressing Leo), all while advancing on the turtle in blue.

Leonardo wanted to laugh at its aggressive antics, but he held himself in check. It was toying with him, he knew this, but Leo would not boast, not yet, not until the last of his enemy succumbed from the weight of his judgment. Leonardo would win; he had to. After all, his honor was at stake, because in the next room and huddling in fear, were those he had sworn to protect. He. Had. To. Win. There was no other option. It would not matter what it cost him, either.

As if sensing Leo's momentary lapse in concentration, his enemy took advantage of it and dove to strike.

What it didn't know was that Leonardo was a master ninja, with reflexes as sharp as any freshly honed knife.

In an instant, Leonardo whipped around, cutting through the air with his weapon. He was a paradigm of fluidic grace.

Just as his enemy believed itself victorious, in the final second and with a skill that any warrior would envy, Leonardo struck home.

Like Joe DiMaggio, he smashed his enemy with the flat of his weapon and his whoop of victory nearly raised the rafters. His opponent shot over the sofa and smacked into the living room window of Casey's farmhouse. It bounced to the floor and writhed haphazardly along the wooden surface. It stopped, contorted again, and then lay there, still and unmoving. It had joined its comrades in death.

Fifty-one of their dreaded enemy lay strewn along the floor, all defeated by one single warrior: the great, the mighty...Hamato Leonardo.

He stood over them with legs spread apart in a superhero stance, one hand on hip, his weapon at attention in the other, a smug proud expression on his face.

Knowing they were safe once again, his brothers emerged cautiously from the kitchen. Through the door and into the living room they filed, one by one, each admiring the handiwork of their hero.

"Did ya get'em all, Leo?" Raph asked, looking around in concern.

"Dude, that was awesome work!" Mike gushed as he observed the carnage lying under the front window.

Donnie only said, "Every year we get these things. There must be a way for'em to get in. Still, you know if it wasn't for Raph's fear of bugs, Leo, you could have just opened the front door. I'm sure they would have left quite willingly. Flies prefer being outdoors."

Raph only shook his head, a look of horror on his face, "Nuh uh, Don, they'd only find another way inside again. They had to die!" He went over to Leo and, with a relieved smile, exclaimed, "Thanks bro, I owe you one!"

Leonardo laid a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder, "No problem, Raph." He then walked over to the side of the fireplace and hooked the flyswatter back on the wall again.

From the kitchen, another voice sounded, "Leonardo, is it safe to come out?"

"Yes, Master Splinter, it's safe, now; they're all dead," Leo confirmed softly.

"Good," the old rat said in relief, and he soon eased through the doorway, his cane tapping out each step he took, "It is really annoying when flies get tangled in my fur."

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_Every summer we get a gazillion flies in our house - all at the same time - sometimes as many as 50, or more! Tiny little buggers, but all eager to be big flies one day. We haven't a clue how they get in, but - I do have to say that since our dogs died a couple of years back, we don't get as many of them. Still, it's rather annoying to have all these flies flitting about, buzz-bombing our heads. Even my cat Buster runs for cover; it's hilarious. So, I end up as the Vanquisher, taking up as many as two flyswatters to do battle ala Leonardo. I'm not nearly as graceful of course, and my form is more laughable than impressive, but my war cry is just as loud, believe me! Especially when I've killed the very last one! LOL _


End file.
